I Cried For You
by Angela On My Shoulder
Summary: Whilst attending a friend's funeral Ziva has second thoughts about whether her being there is justified.  Inspired by the Katie Melua song of the same name.


**I Cried For You - Whilst attending a friend's funeral Ziva has second thoughts about whether her being there is justified.**

Greetings one and all! It's been a while but real life doesn't stop to indulge my fanficcing urges.  
>I struggled a bit with the summary for this one but I hope it's drawn you all in and enjoy what's coming.<br>~Angela

* * *

><p><em>"In many years they may forget<em>  
><em>This love of ours or that we met<em>  
><em>They may not know how much you meant to me"<em>  
><em>- Katie Melua (I Cried For You)<em>

Ziva David looked out of place amongst the funeral crowd as she stood at the rear of the non-secular chapel, alone and separate from the rest of the congregation, as Mark Sadowski read the eulogy. The pair made brief eye contact and he, seemingly startled by her attendance, stumbled on his closing words before she broke the hold to allow her gaze to drift and land upon the simple wooden casket that lay at the front of the room. Roy's casket. Thunder clapped and lightning flashed before the sky gave way to a torrent of water, prompting the priest to crack an awkward and feeble attempt at humour while Ziva, unperturbed by the ruckus, removed herself from the building to enter into the elements. A gale howled outside and blew the rain into the verandah under which she now stood, soaking through the simple black dress and cardigan she wore and chilling her already frozen bones. She paced the area ferociously, all but denting the concrete with her forceful footfalls as thoughts, feelings and emotions welled within her. As they fermented the pressure built, and she could feel it. Rising, rising, forever increasing.

"Why did I come?" Ziva asked herself within her head.

"_Roy asked you to_." A silent voice answered.

"Why was it Roy? Why couldn't he just be content with jogging past me every morning? Why did he have to come into my life?"

"_Fate_."

"But why now? Why just before his death?"

"_The death he didn't have to die_."

"Stupid stupid stupid man!"

"_Stupid man who you fell in love with_." The voice teased cruelly.

"Ziva David does not fall in love with a man she has known for only a matter of days."

"_Try months_." It scoffed.

"They do not count. We never even spoke."

"_You two certainly made up for that_."

"Roy taught me a lot… About the IAEA." She added.

"_And life_."

"And life."

"_And love_."

"And love." Ziva conceded the points made by the voice before it offered a final one.

"_And yourself_."

The internal battle ceased with a series of blows delivered by Ziva to a nearby stone column, which she then proceeded to slump against. Rain-diluted blood ran from her knuckles and she began to cry with no noise, no fuss, just tears. Minutes later, she heard the chapel door behind her open despite the driving rain and continuing electrical storm.

"Great, a trivial mourner taking a cigarette break." She thought cynically, but a hand on her shoulder interrupted this cognition.

Ziva looked up and saw a woman in her sixties, appearance newly dishevelled and weathered with reddened eyes and hair askew. Upon failing to find any recognition, the younger of the pair stood and walked away, only to be halted by a call from whence she just came.

"Are you Ziva?" The woman spoke. "The NCIS agent?" She turned and looked at her once more, this time finding familiarity within her eyes. "My son mentioned you before he…" Her voice hitched slightly. "When he was in the hospital. You didn't know Roy for long."

"What difference does it make?" Ziva bit viciously, but was then engulfed by a feeling of immediate guilt. "I am sorry. It is just-"

"I understand." Mrs Sanders said genuinely as the storm showed no sign of relenting. "I know that sometimes it's those we spend the littlest time with who leave the greatest mark on us."

"That is true. So very true." Ziva agreed solemnly, sitting down on the large base of the column she previously assaulted.

"The service is nearly over. Would you like to join the rest of the family for lunch afterwards?" She asked with a small groan as she joined the more able-bodied female.

"Oh no. I couldn't." She declined.

"It would be our privilege."

"No, I can't. I am sorry, Mrs Sanders, but no. Even if I could I do not know any of your family. I would not even say I knew your son."

"That is true," Mrs Sanders admitted, "but it doesn't change the effect you two had on each other."

Ziva gave a small shiver, only now beginning to feel the inclemency of the weather.

"I did not think that anyone else would have understood." She softly said, equally to herself and her companion. "Oh!" She realised suddenly with an unenthusiastic exclamation. "I uh- I have Roy's orange watch cap. He wore it when he ran and I… Shall I get it for you?" Ziva said, nervous with anticipation of the response.

"No, it's okay, Ziva. You can keep it."

She was more pleased with this answer than she could say, so she mustered a thankful smile, which Mrs Sanders mirrored with a similar gesture: a weary, sad, yet somewhat content smile. It was a painfully familiar grin, but it made Ziva just a little happier as the wind ceased, allowing her to stay dry amidst the storm.

* * *

><p><strong>Queries? Comments? Criticism?<br>\/ **


End file.
